NYSocBoy's Beefcake and Bonding

Phil and Friend

When I was a kid, most church services ended with an altar call, an invitation to come down to the front of the sanctuary, kneel at the long, low wooden rail, and ask God to forgive your sins (we called it becoming a Christian or getting saved, because you were "saved" from an eternity in hell).

It wasn't easy -- you had to work, sobbing and begging and moaning, for at least ten minutes, sometimes more. And afterwards, the most trivial of sins -- an angry word, a lustful thought, a glance at the Sunday newspaper -- would negate your salvation, so you'd have to start all over again.

So it was not unusual to go down several times a year, and some especially sensitive types went down at almost every service.

Usually adults -- teens had regular invitations to "bow your head right here and ask God to forgive you" in Sunday School (just before the morning service) and NYPS (just before the evening), so we were usually saved by the time the altar call came around.

But in ninth grade, the first year that I was officially a teenager, I discovered a benefit to going down to the altar (other than the not going to hell thing).

Praying Through to Victory was such hard work that you needed someone by your side, hugging you, holding you, entreating God on your behalf. Whenever you went to the altar, therefore, Christians (always of the same sex) rushed down to help. Two, three, or even more, depending on your popularity.

They pressed against you, hugging and holding, arms around waists and shoulders, and when you successfully Prayed Through, you became a single mass, bear-hugging and back-slapping and pressing together. During those moments, I felt a lifetime's worth of hard muscle, and sometimes even private parts pressed surreptitiously against me.

Going down to the altar let me get hugged, held, and caressed by the preacher, the preacher's kid, Brother Dino who I saw naked at summer camp, and lots of other cute boys and men.

And the next service, if I was still saved, I had carte blanche to go down and touch, hold, hug, and fondle any guy I liked.

What I Thought Phil Looked Like

But never the guy I wanted most: Phil, a 12th grader, president of the NYPS (Nazarene Young People's Society) and Captain of the Jump Quiz Team, tall and broad-shouldered, probably barrel-chested, with a impressive hardness beneath his Sunday suit.

He was not only hunky, he was the coolest guy I had ever met: he and his parents lived in an apartment (how cool was that?), he worked at Country Style and could get us free milkshakes; he had actually read The Hobbit instead of dismissing it as Satanic; and he wasn't afraid to make friends with Catholics -- "if you don't talk to them, how will you ever win them for Christ?"

During every altar call, I eyed Phil hungrily, praying for him to go down. And when I went down myself, part of my prayer was for "Phil to be here." But it never happened.

Most likely Phil never went down himself because he had achieved entire sanctification, where you are literally unable to commit sins. But even the sanctified could go down to help others pray through! His reluctance was infuriating!

If I was ever going to grope...um, I mean hug...Phil, I would have to use strategy.

1. Girls

One day I approached Phil during Afterglow, the teen party after the Sunday evening service. "I'm troubled about something, and I want to ask for God's guidance. Could you help me?"

"Is it about girls?"

"Um..sure, I guess."

He motioned for me to kneel against his couch, and he knelt beside me -- not touching! After about five minutes of listening to him implore God to keep me safe from temptation, I had enough and got up.

Country Style in Moline, Illinois

2. An Emotional Song

Nazarenes considered it inappropriate for men to touch each other, except while Praying Through to Victory or during especially emotional songs. So one night during NYPS, we were sitting in a circle on folding chairs to "rap." I positioned myself next to Phil and suggested singing "They'll Know We Are Christians," the most emotional song in the hymnal.

At the line "We will walk with each other, we will walk hand in hand," I took his hand. He looked at me oddly, but didn't resist, and everyone else took his lead and held hands with their neighbor.

Afterwards I reached over to hug him, but he quickly disentangled himself, sprang to the center of the circle. "Ok, who has a testimony?" he exclaimed, his cheeks somewhat ruddy with embarrassment.

3. Heresy

Theoretically the sanctified were incapable of committing sins, but in fact they often backslid, and had to start the whole process over again. I didn't want Phil to commit an actual sin and risk hellfire, but maybe something a bit questionable, something that would make him wonder if he had backslid and rush down to the altar to check.

How about doubting the Word of God? The church taught that the Bible was literally dictated by God, historically accurate, without error. It wasn't a sin to believe otherwise, but it was suspect.

David and part of Goliath

One Sunday evening during NYPS, I said "David killed Goliath with his slingshot. That's an incontrovertable fact, right?" David was one of my favorite beefcake stars of the Bible.

"Of course," Phil said. "It's the Word of God."

"But 2 Samuel 2:19 says that Goliath was killed by Elhanan. How can you be killed by two people at once?"

He looked up the passage. "Wait..my Bible says the brother of Goliath."

"Oh, you're using the King James version. It's a mistranslation. The New International Version..."

"There's no such thing as a mistranslation," Phil said firmly. God guides the hands of the translators..."

"Then how can it say 'brother' in one version and not in another."

"It must be a mistranslation." The other teens twittered. He started to redden. "Don't be so nitpicky. Just believe that the Bible is the Word of God, so there can't be any contradictions. Period."

"Then Elphanan killed both Goliath and his brother, and then Goliath came back from the dead so David could kill him? Yeah, that makes perfect sense!"

"Dammit, Jeff, show some respect for God's Word!"

The room got very quiet. Phil paled as he realized that he had just lost his salvation.

I was choked with remorse. I wanted Phil to experience doubt, not the far more serious sins of Anger and Swearing!

That night we both went down to the altar. But at least I got my grope...um, I mean hug.

I have always been attracted to clergy. There's something about a devotion to the spiritual world that makes your presence in the physical world especially erotic. Maybe the paradoxical juxtaposition of muscles and Bibles, penises and prayer.

When I was a kid, I watched the preacher up on his podium three times a week, pacing and pounding his Bible and screaming until his brown business suit was soaked with sweat and you could glimpse his tight, hairy chest underneath.

At Nazarene summer camp, I saw my Sunday school teacher, Brother Dino, naked in the shower, and got a nice view of of the Gospel-singing Sanderson Brothers peeing in the woods.

My first real boyfriend was a student preacher.

My goal is to date, hook up with, or at least see a religious leader in each of the major religious groups.

1. Roman Catholic. I dated a Traditional Catholic monk, and once I was invited on a Catholic retreat, where I got to bunk with a young, attractive priest. Nothing happened, but in the night I watched carefully and noticed that he was having an erotic dream.

2. Eastern Orthodox. No Romanian Orthodox monks, such as pose for those erotic-religious calendars, but I dated a former Greek Orthodox priest with a pushy mom.

3. Evangelical Christian. Lots. Lapsed Baptists, Nazarene seminarians, even a Salvation Army major. Alan, the first guy I dated seriously in West Hollywood, was a Pentecostal minister.

4. Mormon. Who wouldn't want to invite those pairs of missionaries into your house to discuss the Angel Moroni, the Golden Plates, and sacred underwear? I dated a Mormon guy, but never a missionary.

5. Hindu. Does a a follower of the Maharishi Mahesh Yogi count?

6. Buddhist. There are no professional clergy in Buddhism, but a hot orange-robed monk would be a good substitute.

7. Pagan. No professional clergy, but I've dated Wiccans.

8. Sikh. A Sikh guy used to work out at Barney's gym in Florida, and I managed to see the surprisingly muscular physique under his white robe.

9. Jewish. I had a Jewish partner for 10 years, and hooked up with several other Jewish guys, but no rabbis. Not even any rabbinic students.

10. Muslim. The holy grail of clergy-cruising. Not only is Islam notoriously homophobic, but there aren't many Muslims in the U.S., and even fewer imams (you can have a congregation without one). I've never even come close, not even during my semester in Turkey.

See also: Brother Dino in the Shower; The Sanderson Boys Get Naked; and The Top 10 Public Penises of Islam

If you've been watching Modern Family, you're probably wondering about Andy, the sweet, cheerful, ultra-feminine guy with a incredible -- repeat, incredible -- physique that Gloria hires as a nanny for the baby, to the consternation of her husband and teenage son. At first I figured that he was using feminine mannerisms to signify that he was gay.

But it turns out that his plot arc is going in another direction: he and the teenage Haley have a sparring "I hate you!" attraction going on.

I looked him up on the internet, and found some amazing beefcake photos.

He's Adam DeVine, a 30-year old comedian from Omaha, Nebraska who has been performing on-screen since 2006, usually teamed with Anders Holms and Blake Anderson. They have produced many comedy shorts, such as Religious Dad, Straight Outta Mordor, and Super Seniors, and three tv series for Comedy Central: Crossbows & Mustaches (2006-2008), Fifth Year (2008-), and the workplace comedy Workaholics (2011-2014).

Comedy Central's humor is usually bitingly homophobic, so I'm leery about investigating Adam's work further, but a google search suggests that Workaholics has some gay subtexts combined with a lot of homophobia. According to the Gender/Sex/Media Blog, being gay is presented as weird, stupid, and absurd.

Maybe gay male viewers are too overwhelmed by the spectacular physique to notice.

Still, Gloria might want to rethink her choice of nanny, especially if she intends to invite Cam and Mitchell over. There might be trouble.

Postscript: after four months, Andy has spent time with all of the other characters, but not Cam and Mitchell. They were on screen together just once, in a group shot, and they haven't interacted at all.

Maybe it's in his contract.

Maybe you're not in danger of assault, getting fired from your job, or stupid homophobic questions like "What do they think causes that now?", so you don't need to pretend that you're straight. But you still want to hang out with straight guys, get invited to their parties, be accepted as one of them.

First thing to realize: You will be asked to evaluate women's breasts and potential sexual prowess. Straight guys think you are attracted to women -- you just happen to like men a little more -- and they can never be convinced otherwise. So just go with the flow and say "Oh, yeah, she's hot. If I wasn't gay, I'd do her in a minute!"

Second thing to realize: You will be discussing The Game. A lot. If you don't know something about Sports, you will quickly become a wallflower.

Knowing about football will do the job pretty well, but for a backup, or off-season, you will also need to know about two subsidiary sports, basketball and baseball.

Straight guys love to compete over projectiles. In basketball, they play on a "court," trying to throw the projectile through a hoop on the opposing team's side. They can't grab or tackle each other; they can only block throws and try to wrest the ball out of their opponent's hand.

I was forced to play basketball in school. Whenever I got the ball, I immediately handed it to whoever was standing closest to me, regardless of the team.

The good news:
1. Professional basketball doesn't have as many teams, ranks and categories as football. There are only 30 teams in the National Basketball Association (NBA), and they're divided into six divisions.

2. You just need to follow "your team," the one closest to you geographically. Not necessarily in your state. For example, when I lived in Dayton, my "team" was the Indiana Pacers, not the Cleveland Cavaliers, because Indianapolis was closer than Cleveland.

The bad news:

1. Each team plays a whopping 82 games!

2. The season lasts from October to April, so for three months, the worlds of football and basketball collide!

Straight guys seem to have no trouble juggling the massive schedules.

3. Football players have to tackle you, so they tend to be big and buffed. Basketball players have to throw a ball over your head, so they tend to be long and lanky, not particularly attractive.

But...a lot of regular hunks play basketball, too, and shirts-skins team patterns are not uncommon.

The big event of the year is the Playoffs, in late April, to decide the best team in the NBA. During the last few years, the winning team is usually the Miami Heat, the San Antonio Spurs, or the Los Angeles Lakers.

College basketball is divided into the same divisions as college football. It doesn't draw nearly as much interest, but you should know about March Madness, technically the NCAA Men's Division I Championship, when 38 college teams compete. Recent winners have included Connecticut, Louisville, Kentucky, Duke, Florida, and North Carolina.

You only need to know about the high school teams in your own city. and then only insofar as team members might be recruited for college teams or the NBA.

A lot easier than football, right?

See also: Knowing Your Straight Friends #1: Football

Readers have been asking me about the custom of "sharing" one's boyfriends with friends, especially roommates, which was common in Florida and West Hollywood. Didn't it provoke hurt feelings, if the boyfriend was more into you? Wasn't there a danger of breaking up the relationship?

Not very often. There were unspoken protocols in place.

1. You never "shared" your roommate's casual dates, only committed, trusting partners.

2. You never met with the boyfriend without the roommate present. Ever.

3. If it was obvious that the boyfriend liked you a little "too much," then you never asked or offered to share again.

4. After a breakup, you could only date the ex-boyfriend with explicit consent of the roommate.

It was mostly foolproof. I can only recall once, in 20 years in West Hollywood, New York, and Florida, when it backfired.

Bodybuilder who looks like Stan

September 4nd, 2004: Hurricane Frances was about to make landfall in Florida, so we planned a Hurricane Party: you buy a lot of food, bottled water, and gas for your generator, invite some friends, and hunker down.

Yuri had just broken up with Jim the Baseball Player, so he came alone.

Barney invited his current boyfriend, a fellow bodybuilding enthusiast named Stan.

I invited Randy, a cute 30-ish guy with red hair and a nice physique, who worked in a drug store. We had only been out on one date, but I figured this would give us plenty of time to get to know each other.

Day #1:
This was my first big hurricane since I got to Florida, and we lived just outside the evacuation zone. It was as frightening and spectacular as I had anticipated.

The power went out after less than an hour, and we lit candles and turned on a transistor radio to listen for news.

We played Trivial Pursuit, talked about our coming out experiences, and had pie.

When it was time for bed, Barney and Stan invited Yuri to join them, leaving me and Randy alone. It was only our second time together.

Randy lookalike with a friend

Day #2:
The real Hurricane Party began: a week of power outages and cleanup, and three days of "stay inside your home orders."

We cleaned up the debris, played croquet, watched a DVD, exercised on Barney's bike in shifts, worked on our computers. I noticed Randy giving Yuri weird, hungry looks, but didn't think anything of it -- everybody gave Yuri hungry looks. He was quite attractive.

Dinner was steak and corn grilled in the backyard, another salad, and cookies. Then we played a few rounds of Gay Monopoly.

When it was time for bed, I invited Yuri to join us.
"Are you sure?" he asked. "You have only been boyfriends for a little time."
"It will be fine," I said.

But it wasn't exactly fine: Randy completely ignored me to lavish attention upon Yuri, trying every act in The Joy of Gay Sex and a few others of his own design. Then he fell asleep with his arms around Yuri, and nearly kicked me off the bed.

Day #3:
Another DVD, more exercise, reading, and nude sunbathing. Randy positioned himself to set next to Yuri at every activity.

In the afternoon, I was getting cabin fever, so I walked around for awhile, looking at the downed trees, the damaged buildings, and the traffic lights that were flashing randomly. When I returned, Yuri pulled me aside;

"Jeff, before I was in my room reading a book, and Randy comes in and wants to be with me. I said he's your boyfriend, he should be with you, but he grabbed me anyway! I push him away, and he gets mad!"

When I confronted Randy, he apologized. "I don't know the rules. I figured, we were together last night, why couldn't we be together this afternoon?"

"Because I wasn't around!"

Dinner was cold fried chicken, warmed up on the grill, and the last of the milk.

In the evening, we played Naked Twister by candle light, and everyone got to grab everyone else. But Randy was interested only in Yuri.

At bedtime, Barney and Stan went off alone. Randy looked at me hopefully.

"I'm really tired," Yuri said, trying to defuse the situation. "I will sleep alone tonight."

"Don't be silly. You can come to our bed, it's no problem."

Yuri was very careful to pay a lot of attention to me, and all but ignore Randy, who became more and more agitated. But what could he do? When it came time to fall asleep, he said "It's too hot in here. I'm sleeping on the couch!" and left.

Day #4:

The power was still out, but the "stay inside" order was lifted, so we all drove up to open Barney's gym and have a decent workout. Except Randy: he made an excuse and went home.

And didn't return any of my phone calls or emails.

I'm pretty sure he dumped me because of Yuri.

Sons of bandleader Ozzie Nelson and his wife Harriet, David Nelson (born 1936) and his kid brother Ricky Nelson (born 1940) began their careers playing "themselves" on The Adventures of Ozzie and Harriet, first on radio (1950-52) and then on tv (1952-1966). They shared equally in their parents' fame.

But then one day in 1957, Ricky sang the Fats Domino hit "I'm Walkin'" on the show, and suddenly he was a superstar, arguably the first teen idol of the Boomer generation, selling millions of records, performing at sold-out concerts, interviewed in every teen magazine.

David. . .wasn't.

The brothers had always been very close, and it hurt Ricky -- and his parents -- to see David left behind. But how could he help?

David was much more muscular than Ricky, an accomplished acrobat (and apparently much more gifted in the beneath-the-belt department). If his voice wouldn't bring fame, maybe his biceps and bulge would.

Ricky and Ozzie used their connections to get him a starring role in The Big Circus (1959), as Tommy Gordon, a teenage trapeze artist with murderous intent. Not only did he get to play against type, he spent most of the movie in a tight, revealing leotard.

David showed so much talent that Del and Babs Graham, "The Flying Viennas" who performed the movie's stunts, asked him to join their troupe. He agreed, and Ricky, sensing an opportunity for fraternal togetherness, joined as well. Soon they were performing as "The Flying Nelsons," with Ricky as the "flier" and David as the "catcher" (not the gay meaning). Dad had a circus big top installed next to the studio for them to practice in.

Is it just me, or is there something decidedly homoerotic about the sight of Ricky hurling through the air and landing in David's muscular arms?

Ricky didn't really like hurling through the air, so after the brothers performed on a 1960 episode of Ozzie and Harriet, he dropped out. But David starred as a trapeze artist in The Big Show (1961), doing all of his own stunts, and performed on The Hollywood Palace (1966) and several Circus of the Stars tv specials (1977, 1979, 1980, 1981, 1982). It was a lifelong passion, all due to brotherly love.

See also 1970s trapeze artist and Playgirl model Jim Cavaretta

November is my favorite month. The colors are soft and muted, the sky is not too bright, the air is cool but not cold, it's festive but not overwhelming like December, and it contains my birthday and Thanksgiving, the two holidays that provide the most pleasure and least guilt.

Besides, when I was a kid, November and December were the only months where I could read without getting yelled at.

Mom and Dad disapproved of reading -- it was a waste of time, it would strain my brain, it was antisocial -- I should be out playing sports, or at least watching tv with the family. Science fiction and fantasy was especially suspect, likely to turn me into an atheist, or, much worse, a Catholic. So I always hid books, or read at my friends' house, or said they were for school.

But in November,they actually were for school. Teachers always assigned us swashbuckling adventure novels to read over Thanksgiving and Christmas vacation!

It wasn't my fault -- blame my teacher. Sorry, no time to play basketball in the driveway, or touch football in the schoolyard -- I had to get through this book.

Four of the books we were assigned were particularly memorable. They had gay subtexts as well as a heteronormative primary plot.

1. The Count of Monte Cristo, by Alexander Dumas (1844). Edmond Dantes escapes from his unjust imprisonment in the Chateau d'If, and gets vengeance on the people who betrayed him. He gets a girlfriend, but also forms several passionate male friendships, notably with Peppino, a boy who was also betrayed and becomes his...um...."servant." Henry Cavill, left, is one of the more muscular Dantes in film.

2. The Three Musketeers, by Alexander Dumas (1844). A young man named d'Artagnan wants to become a Musketeer, one of the king's bodyguards. The three current Musketeers reject him, but then find him worthy. He gets a girlfriend, but rejects her; his most passionate relationships come with men. (Chris O'Donnell, left, is one of many hunky d'Artagnans).

3. Treasure Island, by Robert Louis Stevenson (1883). A boy helps pirates find buried treasure, with nary a woman in sight.

4. The Prisoner of Zenda, by Anthony Hope (1894). An Englishman on holiday in Ruritania bears a striking resemblance to King Rudolph, who has disappeared, and agrees to impersonate him. He falls in love with the King's fiancee, but has to leave her. The king and the commoner share many a touching moment.

5. The Scarlet Pimpernel, by the Baroness Orczy (1905). A precursor of Zorro, Batman, and all of the other superheroes with a milktoast alter ego, Sir Percy Blakeney pretended to be gay -- weak, shrill, feminine -- but he was really a hetero hero, saving French aristocrats from the guillotine during the Reign of Terror. He has a girlfriend, whom he marries, but he also spends time rescuing male aristocrats, notably the hunky Sir Andrew.

6. Captain Blood, by Raphael Sabatini (1922). Dr. Peter Blood, an Irish physician (who would want to go to a doctor called Blood?), is wrongly convicted of treason and sold into slavery in the Caribbean. He and his friend Jeremy Pitt commandeer a ship and become pirates. (Ross Alexander, top photo, played Jeremy Pitt in the 1935 movie).

All of these novels have been filmed many times, usually with a hetero-romance tacked on to provide a "fade out kiss" ending. But I didn't know that during those long, cool November afternoons.

See also: Beefcake and Bonding in the Green Library.

In the first years of the twentieth century, everyone read Uncle Tom's Cabin, the novel by Harriet Beecher Stowe (1852) that, in Abraham Lincoln's famous joke, "started the Civil War."

Or they went to see one of the many silent film or theatrical versions.

The characters and events were as intimately familiar as anything in today's Harry Potter or Twilight series.

You would call anyone evil a Simon Legree.

Anything with an unknown origin was compared to Topsy, who was never born; she "just growed."

Jokesters called anyone impossibly virtuous a Little Eva.

And Uncle Tom, the doddering, creaking, white-haired, who sang and danced and reveled in his slavery, proclaiming it the best of all possible worlds?

By the 1940s, his name was being applied to African-Americans who supported or abetted racist policies. Today anyone in an oppressed group who sells out to the oppressor is called an Uncle Tom.

Like the gay writers and actors who fill our tv screens with screaming-queen stereotypes.

But in the original novel, Uncle Tom was no sell-out: he was strong-willed and principled, standing up to slave owners to obey the dictates of his conscience.

And he wasn't a doddering oldster: he was in his 40s, still strong, his muscles an object of both admiration and fear.

The comic book versions depict him as more of a sex symbol than an elderly minstrel, his overalls falling open to reveal his massive chest.

The poster for the 1965 film version (top photo) shows the back side of a naked muscleman, and promises: "the real story of how it all happened -- the SLAVES, the MASTERS, the LOVERS!"

Although the movie contains no nudity and no lovers.

Uncle Tom has a wife in the novel, but she is of minimal importance. What is important is the homoerotic desire that he elicits in his owners:

Simon Legree, who beats him because he refuses to harm another man.

And especially Augustine St. Clare, the gay-vague fop who opposes slavery even though his wife forces him to own slaves, and who wants to free Tom but can't bear the idea of not being able to gaze on his sleek, shimmering muscles anymore.

See also: The Uncle Tom Award #1: Todd Graff; and Brock Ciarlelli, the Uncle Tom of the Middle.

People are always asking if you're a fan of masculine backsides or frontsides.

Backsides have their allure. Glutes are pleasantly shapely, and hamstrings and calves have an appeal. Besides, you can ogle at them without the owner noticing.

But they pale in comparison to the weak-in-the-knees magnificence of muscular pecs, abs, and biceps. Not to mention the basket.

And the face. Who wants to cruise the back of someone's head?

So I don't understand why:

1. Homophobes always equate gay with backsides. "I'm not homophobic, but the things you are so disgusting!" they squeal. "How can you do that...that backside thing? Doesn't it make you sick?"

2. The first thing gay men ask is "Are you a top or a bottom?" (For backside activities).

3. Or in my case, because I'm on the tall side, they just assume. The moment we get to my apartment, they flop onto their stomachs.

4. Guys who are bottoms for backside activities are denigrated as unmanly. "He may act all masculine and butch, but he's really a little sissy! The moment you get into the bedroom, he flops onto his stomach!"

5. When a backside act is forced, it's a felony. Every other forced same-sex act is a misdemeanor, not nearly as serious in the eyes of the law.

6. After a night of very energetic erotic activity, guys say "Well, that was nice, but I want to go all the way with you! I want to have sex!" Anything not involving the backside is preliminary, "fooling around," not really sex at all.

It's due to the heterosexual assumption that sex must always involve a male penetrating a female. Whatever gay men do must follow that model, and since there's no vagina, they must substitute the backside (and the one who gets penetrated is like a woman, therefore despicable).

Sexist, homophobic nonsense. Sex involves many different activities. Your whole body can participate, not just one part.

When I moved to West Hollywood in the 1980s, we weren't sure yet what caused AIDS -- the HIV virus had not yet been isolated, but we knew that it was transmitted easily through unprotected backside activity -- so most guys stayed away. The rest used condoms. Always.

Today only about half of gay men are interested in backside activity (50% are bottoms, 20% tops, and 30% versatile).

Oddly, only about half of older and a third of younger men use condoms.

Crazy.

There are only about 30 gay bath houses left in the United States, down from the hundreds in the 1970s -- they have fallen prey to homophobic health regulations, a puritanical culture, and hook-up apps like Grindr. But chances are you're within 300 miles of one, and it's well worth a destination visit.

Here are 15 reasons why you should include a bathhouse on your recreational agenda:

1. Going to bathhouses is a part of gay history. Before the 1970s, bathhouses were the only place where men could socialize without fear of being assaulted by homophobes or arrested. Many early Gay Rights pioneers did their organizing at bathhouses.

2. You can go during the daytime, instead of waiting around until 10:00 or 11:00 pm to hang out in a bar.

3. And there's no cigarette smoke clogging your lungs, no obnoxious drunks, and no blaring music, like in a bar.

4. You will see more naked men than you ever thought possible. The only other place to see naked men in real life is in a locker room, where you can, at best, steal a glance at the guy stripping down next to you. At the bath house, there are dozens of naked men, of every size and shape, and none of them mind gawkers.

5. You will discover the infinite variety of same-sex relationships. You will meet men who have sex with men but fall in love with women, men who have sex with women but fall in love with men, men whose boyfriends are ok with "playing," men whose boyfriends aren't, and everything in between.

6. You will discover the infinite variety of same-sex behavior, from newbies who have never had sex before to regulars who have sex twenty times per week.

7. You will discover that life doesn't end at age 40. You will see 60, 70, and even 80-year old men, vibrant, active, knowledgeable. Where else in age-stratified gay culture can you talk to men who lived through the dark ages before Stonewall and the first heady days of Gay Liberation?

8. You don't have to spend any money except for your membership and entry fee. You can wander around all day for free.

9. There's no hurry. Club meetings end in a few hours, bars end at 2:00 am, but most clubs are open 24 hours a day, and your membership is good for 12 hours. You can also go out, have dinner, and come back again.

10. There's no day or night. Most parts of the Club are bathed in warm semi-darkness, with no windows. Time stands still. It's an eternal "now."

11. Finding a partner is much easier than exchanging endless "stats? pic?" emails and then arranging a meeting. You see someone you like, make eye contact, and walk toward him, or just grab. If he's not interested, he says "No, thanks," or if it's noisy, raises his hand in a "stop" gesture. But to be honest, refusals aren't very common. Most guys are interested.

12. If you just like to watch, most guys don't mind spectators.

13. If you just want to meet people, striking up a conversation is much easier in a bath house than in other gay venues. Something about being naked or in a towel makes most men lose the Attitude.

14. They have fully-equipped gyms, so you can get your workout in before, during, and after cruising.

15. Plus steam rooms, saunas, swimming pools, and often discos and restaurants. You can get all of your recreational needs met under one roof.

When you leave, blinking, into the bright light of the city, you've exercised, had a sauna, had as many partners as you want, watched, chatted with people, and seen a hundred naked men. That's a lot to accomplish in just a few hours.

See also: 15 Rules of Gay Cruising.; That Bathhouse in West Hollywood

Beginning with The Mary Tyler Moore Show, many, many sitcom have featured a gung-ho female journalist paired with a stick-in-the-mud male boss. Usually a romance develops. But not in Just Shoot Me (1997-2003).

Its premise: aging playboy Jack Gallo (George Segal) runs a women's magazine, Blush, which offers frothy fashion and sex tips. His daughter Maya (Laura San Giocomo) arrives, all but waving a "Women's Lib" sign, ready to fight the objectification of women and write hard-hitting articles about human trafficking and date rape.

She is shocked to discover that everyone at Blush is extraordinarily horny. Sexual desires, exploits, adventures, and come-ons occupy all of their free time, which is all of the workday.

Photographer Elliot DiMauro (Enrico Colantoni) sleeps with every female model, no exceptions.

Wise-cracking secretary Dennis Finch (David Spade) makes crude come-ons to every women in sight, no exceptions.

Fashion editor and former supermodel Nina Van Horn (Wendie Malick) sleeps with every man she sees, no exceptions.

There are episodes about the clash between hard-hitting journalism and froth, but mostly the series is about relationships. Maya bickers with her Dad, clashes with his new wife, and gets boyfriends, eventually Elliot.

Nina competes with other supermodels, falls in love with the wrong man, pretends to be things that she's not, and gets her comeuppance.

Dennis pursues a father-son relationship with Jack, pursues a relationship with his real father, and has the insecurities beneath the snark revealed.

They all become close friends.

There was some gay interest:

Nina Van Horn was an outrageous, boozy, profane type, the sort gay men like to emulate in their drag queen personae.

Everyone is shocked to discover that Dennis is an extra-extra large (he didn't know himself, assuming that the guys in porn movies were about average, and he was just a little bigger than them).

Enrico Colantoni, hairy and rather muscular, took off his shirt often (he even posed semi-nude for Playgirl).

Gay people were referenced on occasion, the usual "mistaken for gay" and "pretending to be gay to enjoy the tremendous advantages gay people have" episodes.

Only two actual LGBT persons: the high school buddy who had a sex change; and a female model has a crush on Maya.

Typical for how the 1990s handled gay "issues," as a problem for the heterosexuals to solve.

You'd think they could do better, and have an actual gay character in a recurring role. But it came on just before or just after Will and Grace, and network execs probably figured that viewers couldn't stand two programs with gay characters on the same night.

See also: Suddenly, Susan

Baseball may be the only third most important sport in the Straight Guy pantheon, but it's still more important than hockey, golf, tennis, wrestling, boxing, track and field, and gymnastics. Besides, it's the only sport for Straight Guys to talk about when football and basketball season is over, roughly April to August.

And it's got a lot of sexual symbolism. We used to classify sexual activity by running bases; hitting a home run was heterosexual intercourse.

Baseball bats are obvious phallic symbols.

And gay guys are still asked if they're a pitcher or a catcher, that is, a top or a bottom.

When Yuri was dating a baseball player in Florida, he was asked that every five minutes, by people who thought they were being very funny.

Baseball is played outdoors, on a diamond-shaped field. The "pitcher," on the opposing team will throw a small round projectile at you. Your job is to hit it with a bat, far enough so you can run around the diamond, touching three bases, before anyone on the other team can retrieve the projectile and touch you with it.

The main quality for success in baseball is hand-eye coordination, not height or strength, so all physical types can play. Even little kids are often co-opted into Little League.

Major League Baseball teams are divided, like football and basketball, into two groups, the American League and the National League. Each league is divided into three divisions, East, Central, and West. The same city may have teams from two leagues, as in the New York Yankees and the New York Mets.

But don't worry, you just have to know "your team," usually the team in the city closest to you. When I was growing up in Rock Island, most people belonged to the Chicago Cubs (3 hours away), though a few belonged to the St. Louis Cardinals (6 hours away).

Now that I'm living in Minnesota, I have no choice: it's the Minnesota Twins.

Baseball season typically lasts for six months, from April to October. Your team will play a whopping 162 games, five nights a week plus an occasional afternoon game, pairing off against every team in the league at least once.

At the end of October, the top teams in the football and basketball leagues play each other once to determine the championship, but in baseball, they play each other seven times in a week-long festive occasion called the World Series.

The last few teams to win the World Series are: the San Francisco Giants, The Boston Red Sox, the Giants, and the St. Louis Cardinals.

Since nearly anyone can play baseball, there is a bewildering variety of minor leagues, semi-pro leagues, local teams, youth teams -- you name it. Here in Mankato, we have the Mankato Area Youth Baseball Association, the Minnesota Sports Federation, the VFW Federation, the Mankato Moondogs, and teams for Minnesota State, Bethany College, and West High School.

Whenever Straight Guys can't get out to watch their pro team play, they'll make do with some of these local and regional games. So just ask "How did the Moondogs do last night?" and be prepared to talked into a stupor.

See also: A Naked Baseball Player in the Kitchen.

I was always mature for my age, so I attracted guys a few years older than me. So it came as quite a shock when I hit 40, and things were reversed. The guys staring at me, approaching me at parties, and asking me out were younger.

Yuri was 14 years younger than me.
Matt the Security Guard, 17 years younger.
Mario the Teen Model, 19 years younger.
But the biggest age gap: 26 years!

In 2005, when I was going to Barney's Gym in Florida, three boys from Cardinal Gibbons High School came in almost every afternoon to work out. Two were just fooling around, but the third, Stanton, short and sandy-haired, was serious about weight training and nutrition.

And gay, obviously staring at biceps and baskets.

And apparently into me, following me around, asking questions, trying to maneuver to see me naked in the shower.

I did the same things in high school!

I decided that I was going to mentor this kid, make sure he didn't have the same trouble I had: assumed heterosexual, not aware that gay people exist.

But this was 2005, in a gay neighborhood. Things had changed!

One day in late January, he approached me when I was alone in the locker room. "That guy you always work out with -- is he your boyfriend?"

WTF? "Um..um...you mean Yuri? We're just friends. I don't have a boyfriend.'

"Me, neither." He grinned. "You into younger guys?"

"What? But...I've been out since before you were born. What are you, about sixteen?"

"Hey, I'm eighteen!" Stanton exclaimed, offended. "And I can prove it. Wanna see my id?"

"That's ok, I believe you. But...shouldn't you be cruising guys your own age?"

"What's cruising mean?"

At that moment, someone else came into the locker room, and Stanton quickly moved away.

The next day Stanton approached me again. "My basketball team is playing against Dillard on Saturday. It's the semi-quarterfinal. Do you want to come? And we could go for pizza afterwards."

"Will you be bringing a girl, too?" I asked.

"What? No! Why would I bring a girl?"

"Just joking," I said, smiling as I recalled how Verne and I went on basketball-and-pizza dates in high school, only we had to bring girls along as a screen. "Anyway, I can't go -- previous engagement. But thanks for the offer."

Next he invited me to see Lemony Snicket's Series of Unfortunate Events, the movie based on the series of children's books.

I declined, mostly because I was worried that everyone in the theater would think we were father and son.

Later I told Barney and Yuri about my teen admirer. "Why don't you just date him?" Barney asked. "He's of legal age, and he's cute, so what's the problem?"

"The problem is, he was born 2 years after I moved to West Hollywood! His first childhood crush was Richard Lee Jackson on Saved by the Bell: The New Class!"

"So what? When Christopher Isherwood met Don Bachardy, he was 48, and Bachardy was 18. It was a match made in heaven!"

A few days later, Stanton invited me to Sebastian Street, the gay beach in Fort Lauderdale, where we could swim, sunbathe, and ogle cute guys all afternoon. I agreed, but insisted on bringing Barney and Yuri along. Stanton countered by bringing his two high school buddies, Ronnie and Keaton.

In addition to discussions of the measurements of passersby and the actors they would like to "get with," they talked incessantly of Green Day. When I put on a tape of Olivia Newton-John singing "Let's Get Physical," they cupped their ears and pretended to gag.

Afterwards, Stanton suggested that the three of them come back to our house to "party," but I refused. I permitted a good-night kiss in the car, though.

Next Stanton invited me to a bodybuilding competition at Florida International University in Miami. I said ok, but insisted on double-dating with Barney and his boyfriend.

This time I invited him home.

"Don't go bragging to all your friends about how you scored," I joked.

"Huh?"

He didn't get the term score, or the reference to second season of The Simpsons.

We dated a few more times, long enough for Barney to evoke his "sharing" privileges, but it was obvious that the relationship wasn't going anywhere. For one thing, Stanton was entering his prime partying years, and I was perfectly happy staying home on Saturday night.

For another, he would be going off to college soon, and I was sending out applications in the hope of getting a job in Europe.

For another, Green Day.

So I called it quits.

When I told Barney, he immediately asked if it was ok for him to ask Stanton out. The age difference didn't bother him a bit.

Four years later, in upstate New York, I started dating Jeremy, who also happened to be 26 years younger. And a Green Day fan.

We've been together ever since.

See also: The Georgia Boy and the Cute Young Thing; and My Date with the Teen Model.

Peter MacNicol was not related to Jimmy and Kristy McNichol -- notice the name is spelled differently -- but everyone thought he was. In fact, everyone at Augustana College went to Dragonslayer in 1981 because they mistakenly believed that Peter was the buffed 21-year old teen idol.

It wasn't good. Derivative, heterosexist...and sword-and-sorcery heroes are supposed to be man-mountains, like Arnold Schwarzenegger. Or Jimmy McNichol. But Peter was scrawny!

In Sophie's Choice (1982), he plays a young aspiring writer in the 1950s South, who inexplicably starts a romance with an elderly Jewish lady named Sophie (played by Meryl Streep). She's a concentration camp survivor who had to make a terrible choice -- I'm not going to tell you what it was -- that renders her forever incapable of falling in love.

But we get to see Peter's scrawny physique, and there's a gay subtext with the always flamboyant Kevin Kline.

A couple of dramas followed, which nobody saw, but might have some more gay subtexts -- with Burt Reynolds in Heat (1986) and Tim Guinee in American Blue Note (1989).

Remember in Ghostbusters (1984), Rich Moranis plays a nerd with a crush on Dana, who becomes possessed by the evil spirit? Ghostbusters II (1989), which nobody saw, had precisely the same plot, with Peter as the nerd with a crush on Dana who's possessed by the evil spirit.

You probably saw him as the nerdy villain Gary Granger, summer camp manager who tried to force Wednesday and Pugsley into conformity in Addams Family Values (1993).

And as Renfield, snively servant of the wisecracking vampire in Mel Brooks' parody Dracula: Dead and Loving It (1995).

But he didn't really find his niche until he played John Cage, eccentric co-founder of Allie's law firm in Allie McBeal (1997-2002). The program was generally heterosexist, and occasionally homophobic, but it did give John a gay-subtext friendship with his best bud Richard Fish (Greg Germann).

He got into a bit of a controversery in 2001, when John romances a woman played by Anne Heche, who had just announced that she had "become" a lesbian. Would audiences accept a hetero-romance played by a lesbian?

Apparently it wasn't a problem, and later Heche "turned back" to straight.

Since Allie McBeal, Peter has starred in Numb3rs, 24, and Grey's Anatomy, and done a lot of voice work, notably playing X the Eliminator,gay-vague fanboy and wannabe arch-nemesis of Harvey Birdman on Adult Swim.

See also: Jimmy McNichol and the Gay Coach

In the movies, people from the South are homophobic even when they're not.

Take this speech from Sling Blade (1996), in which 13-year old Frank (Lucas Black) explains why his mom's best friend (John Ritter) can't do anything to protect her from her abusive boyfriend:

He's funny, you know. Not funny "Ha-Ha", funny queer. He likes to go with men instead of women. That makes him not able to fight too good. He sure is nice, though. He's from St. Louis. People who are queer get along better in a big town. I wish he liked to go with women, I'd rather he be Mama's boyfriend than Doyle.

So he's got an affliction that keeps him from being able to fight or become Mama's boyfriend. Sure is nice, though.

But implicit homophobia in Southern characters doesn't prevent gay subtexts; in fact, it facilitates them, since "no one" will believe that a masculine-coded Southerner could possibly be "funny queer."

Check out the career of 30-year old Lucas Black:

1. All the Pretty Horses (2000). He plays a teenager in the Old West who rides with cowboy buddies (Matt Damon, Henry Thomas) and doesn't get a girl.

2. Killer Diller (2004). Good old boys Wesley and Vernon (Lucas, William Lee Scott) start a band together.

3. Friday Night Lights (2004). About a struggling Texas high school football team, with the coach (Billy Bob Thornton) big-brothering star athlete (Lucas).

4. Jarhead (2005). Marine (Jake Gylenhaal) buddies around with his platoon. Lucas has only a few scenes as Southern-fried Chris Kruger, but there's a lot of testosterone in the air.

5. The Fast and the Furious: Tokyo Drift (2007). Alabama teen Sean Boswell (Lucas) moves to Japan with his Dad and gets a girlfriend, but buddies with Han (Sung Kang). Han is killed, and the rage over his death leads Sean to become the champion drift-racer of Japan.

6. 42 (2013). Sports biography about baseball player Jackie Robinson. Lucas plays Peewee Reese, Jackie's close friend.

Not bad for a Southern Baptist boy from Decatur, Alabama.

Ok, you can't turn an actual straight guy gay, or vice versa. Sexual orientation can't be changed. If he isn't into guys, he isn't into guys, period.

But there are plenty of men who think they are straight but are actually bisexual, attracted to women most of the time, but sometimes interested in men.

Or who think they are straight but actually gay, interested in men 100% of the time. They assume that being heterosexual means having cool, unsatisfying relationships with women and passionate, intense same-sex "buddies."

You can help him figure it out. He -- and his family and friends -- will be a lot happier if he stops pretending.

Getting someone to acknowledge same-sex desire is not for the faint of heart. It might be a better idea to stick to guys who have already figured it out, who know that they're gay, or bisexual, or straight but curved a little around the edges.

But if you're determined, here are 10 simple steps to success

1. Define your goal. Why do you want him to figure it out? If your goal is sex or romance, be careful: after figuring it out, he will want to try everything the gay community has to offer, mostly things that don't concern you.

2. Judge the strength of his same-sex interests. Is he almost exclusively interested in men, or is his desire fleeting and trival? That is, could he live happily in a heterosexual relationship?

3. Judge the strength of his homophobia. Does he just have a few minor stereotypes about gay people, or is he seething with rage? Does he make homophobic jokes, or does he say "live and live"? If he's exceptionally homophobic, skip Step #4.

4. Come out to him. Don't expect him to just figure it out by your lack of heterosexual interests and frequent discussions of hot guys. Straight guys never figure it out. You have to give him "the talk."

But assure him that you don't find him physically attractive. Even if you do. Straight guys are under the impression that every gay man wants to have sex with them, and may refuse all future contact unless you make it clear that you don't intend to gawk at him in the shower or grope him in the subway.

5. Introduce him to gay people. The biggest reason for not figuring it out is the belief that gay men in real life act like they do on tv: they squeal, flutter, gossip, leer, and discuss skin care products. He likes football and beer, so he must be straight. Introducing him to a variety of gay people, with a variety of behaviors and interests, will disconfirm him of that notion.

6. Introduce him to accepting heterosexuals. The second reason for not figuring it out is the belief that family and friends will reject him. Straight guys rarely read about or discuss gay rights, so they often believe that the world is far more homophobic than it really is. Introducing him to some straight people who aren't screaming bigots will disconfirm him of that notion.

7. Know your Bible. The third reason for not figuring it out is the belief that God hates gay people. There are five Biblical passages that have been used to justify homophobic hatred. Be ready to look them up and explain what they're really about. If he's particularly religious, have a list of pro-gay churches and religious groups available.

8. Introduce him to physical contact. The fourth reason for not figuring it out is the belief that masculine physical contact is creepy and icky. You can disconfirm him of that notion quite easily. Tell him that gay guys always hug -- it doesn't mean anything. Invite him to a party that's so crowded that you have to sit pressed together. Once you get past the barrier of physical contact, he's almost there.

9. Invite him to a gay venue. Like a Gay Men's Chorus concert or a gay restaurant, but not a Gay Pride festival (too noisy). By this point, you're acting as if you assume that he's gay, and he's probably figured it out. If he continues to protest that he's straight, ask "Aren't you about ready to stop pretending?"

Be prepared for some trauma some guys aren't thrilled by the news that they're gay. They may experience guilt, shame, anger, and all of the other baggage they got growing up homophobic. You may even have to point out some support groups for newly-out gay men.

10. It make take awhile. But hang in there -- he's got nothing to lose, and quite a lot to gain.

See also: Yuri Comes Out; and The Homophobic Thad Becomes a Male Stripper

If I was living my last life during the 1890s, as Raphael the Gay Psychic Angel said, I would have been around for the first years of newspaper comic strips: The Yellow Kid, The Katzenjammer Kids, Happy Hooligan, Mutt and Jeff, Moon Mullins, Barney Google, Krazy Kat, Little Nemo.

Unfortunately, nothing from that life leaked over into this one: I find comics from that era incomprehensible. Even when I can understand the slang, the jokes don't make much sense. They seem to be mostly about people hitting each other.

But I can certainly understand that Alphonse and Gaston are a gay couple.

The invention of prolific cartoonist Frederick Burr Opper, the two Frenchmen, one tall and one short, first appeared in The New York Journal in 1901, and continued intermittently until 1937.

Jokes involved them being urbane, sophisticated, and foppish, traits antithetical to the big-shouldered Yankee masculinity of the era.

And over-polite, each graciously refusing to leave before the other as the building burns down or the bull charges at them.

Soon they were having adventures in exotic locales like Africa and the Middle East, refusing to escape from more and more serious life-threatening situations, while their friend Leon looked on in exasperation.

"After you, my dear Alphonse!" "No, after you, my dear Gaston!" became a popular catchphrase, used endlessly by journalists, political cartoonists, and sports commentators.

They became a staple of Vaudeville and the subject of a stage play, plus several one-minute long comedy shorts (1901-1903). Only one seems to have survived, but plot synopses suggest that the couple lives and sleeps together.

In 1947, Bob Clampett adopted the characters to the over-polite gophers Mac and Tosh, who are even more obviously portrayed as a gay couple, particularly in their recent incarnation on the Cartoon Network.

See also: The Looney Tunes Show

When I was growing up in Rock Island, the adults always asked "Is there any girl at school that you like?" but never "What do you want to be when you grow up?" That was already decided. I would go to work in the factory.

My parents evoked my future in the factory as often as my future with a wife and kids. The two were linked in my mind: factory/marriage, two inescapable facts of life., two incessant murmurs of the mind-control tripods.

Rock Island was a factory town; almost every adult I knew, and the dad of almost every kid I knew, worked at J.I. Case, International Harvester, Caterpillar, or John Deere. They all made tractors, harvesters, and other farm machines.

My factory was going to be J.I. Case Company, with its logo of an eagle digging its talons into the world. Like my father and grandfather and three of my uncles and two of my older cousins. Like everyone.

You started on the assembly line, then after a few years got promoted to lineman, and maybe, eventually, to foreman. Like my father. Except he couldn't handle the stress, and got demoted to lineman again.

I could think of no fate more horrible than getting up at 5:00 am for a day of screwing things into things, then returning, dirty and dripping with sweat, to the small square house wehre my wife would have dinner on the table.

So, occasionally, in grade school or junior high, I said that I didn't want to work in the factory when I grew up. Dad laughed.

"Of course no one wants to work. You probably would rather spend the whole day playing football with your pals. You have to, so you can make money to support your wife and kids."

"No, I mean, I want to do something else besides the assembly line at J.I. Case Company."

"Like what? Sell shoes in the mall? The factory pays better, and you don't have to work nights, so you can spend time with your wife and kids."

Tenth graders at Rocky High were put into "business" or "academic" tracks. I had high grades, so they put me into the academic track, explaining that it was for kids who planned to go to college.

College? The possibility had never crossed my mind before. No one in my family had ever gone to college (actually, my grandmother went to art school, but I didn't know that at the time). Wasn't it just for rich people?

No, there were lot of scholarships. I could probably get one.

"Don't be crazy!" Dad said when I told him about college. "You don't need college to work in the factory! Besides, what are you going to do in college but read books?," he added with a derisive sneer. Nazarenes thought of books other than the Bible as worthless at best, and most likely tools of Satan.

"Yeah, and play the violin," I said, to rub it in: classical music was also suspect, redolent of decadence and effeminacy. "Maybe I'll major in art. And grow my hair long, like a girl."

I expected Dad to yell, but instead he just stared at me, open mouthed. Eventually he said "Why don't you come and take a look at the factory? Who knows, you might like it?"

So the next Saturday, we took a tour of J. I. Case Company in Rock Island. There were three big buildings, all of featureless gray concrete. The first building contained offices, with vast rows of desks where secretaries and stenographers worked.

"All ladies up here," Dad pointed out. "But they never go out onto the floor. That's 100% men."

The "floor" was a vast concrete hangar where the tractor parts moved on conveyor belts until they were assembled on a gigantic machine and then hauled out. It was all noise and bright lights and grime, all wires and tubes and pipes and complicated sharp things. I couldn't understand what anything was for, but I did notice that Dad was right: 100% men.

None with their shirts off, but still....

The third building was for painting, finishing, and licensing. There was also a small tv lounge that stank of paint, a lunchroom with vending machines, and because you got dirty and sweaty during the day, a locker room with showers, so you could be fresh and clean when you returned to your small square house, where your wife had dinner on the table.

Here they had their shirts off. There were even some naked musclemen walking around, penises swinging -- much bigger than the ones I saw in the high school locker room.

Dad took me back to the car, and we drove up the hill again. "That wasn't so bad, was it? It's 100% men. No girly influences at all. Do you think you'd like to be down there on the floor every day?"

"No, Dad, I still want to go to college."

I didn't understand at the time, but now I do:

Dad thought of college as a feminizing influence, a place where I would read books, study music and art, and "turn" gay.

So he was offering a masculine alternative: the factory floor, 100% men, sweat, grime, muscles, and swinging penises.

He hoped that looking at male bodies all day would "keep" me straight.

During the brawny Old West of the 1980s, when Ronald Reagan was squaring off against the Evil Empire and Jerry Falwell was squaring off against the gays, we needed lots of man-mountains:

Buffed shirtless guys who could storm through the jungles of Southeast Asia to rescue kidnapped buddies, get revenge on murdered wives or girlfriends, or take out entire enemy armies with their bare hands.

Unfortunately, after the first hundred buffed guys with martial arts training hit Hollywood, the market became highly competitive, and besides, 25-year old kickboxer Gary Daniels was British, unlikely to be cast in a movie promoting American Exceptionalism.

So he went to the Philippines instead. After a buddy-bonding Indiana Jones rip-off, The Secret of King Mahis Island (1988), he was cast as a man-mountain who ignores his wife and gets nude with his buddy prior to taking out the evil Vietnamese army in Final Reprisal (1988). Some rather explicit gay subtexts.

By the 1990s, Gary had managed to break into American film, playing kickboxer managers, villains, and opponents in the Big Match, fighting to rescue his kidnapped brother (in American Streetfighter), fighting to rescue his buddy (in Firepower), fighting to get revenge on his brother (Hawk's Vengeance).

Gary's characters had little time for women: the target audience of heterosexual male teenagers wanted to see muscles, fights, and explosions, and couldn't care less about a fade-out kiss. The result was a lot of gay subtexts.

During the 2000s, as Gary got older, he began playing more fully-clothed roles, as attorneys, detectives, and military officers who oversee the punching and kicking, but don't indulge personally. His most memorable recent role is The Expendables (2010), in which a group of aging man-mountains is hired to take out a Latin American dictator.

Two of them, played by Arnold Schwarzenegger and Jet Li, reveal that they are a gay couple in The Expendables 2 (2012). Or maybe they're just joking. Either way, they're acknowledging the homoerotics behind the man-mountain genre.

Today you can go online and see 100,000,000 pictures and videos of naked bodybuilders and athletes flexing for selfies, and every actor with even minimal musculature takes off his shirt at the drop of a script.

When I was a kid in the 1960s, there was virtually nothing. An occasional Tarzan movie, an occasional teen idol with an open shirt in a Tiger Beat centerfold. And that was it.

Seeing a man or boy on tv with his shirt off was so rare -- vanishingly rare -- that every instance is indelibly imprinted in my brain, as unforgettable as my first airplane trip or my first date with a guy.

Greg strips down to go surfing on The Brady Bunch .
Stephen Parr shows off his washboard abs on Mystery Island.
Steve Elliot shaves while wearing only pajama bottoms on Petticoat Junction.

And, sometime in the 1960s, I'm guessing around 1968, a Public Service Announcement for the President's Council on Physical Fitness shows a teenage boy doing pushups.

Shirtless.

Hard delts, thick biceps, beautiful interplay of muscles as he rises and falls, rises and falls. His face becomes red. He is smiling.

The narrator tells us that with every pushup, he's "a little bit stronger, a little bit healthier, a little bit happier than before."

Amazing.

I can't find the original PSA, but it was an iconic moment, a moment when I recognized the beauty of the male physique, in spite of the adult insistence that only women liked to look at men.

By the way, pushups are still widely recognized as a good way to maintain core strength. The military requires you to do 45 without stopping to graduate from basic training, but for most adult men, 30 is good.

Fall 1974: Finding a Way to Fondle Phil

Cruising Preachers, Priests, Monks, and Rabbis

Adam DeVine: Amazing Physique, Homophobic Past

Knowing Your Straight Friends #2: Basketball

Fall 2004: Yuri Steals My Boyfriend, Sort Of

David and Ricky Nelson: Teen Idols Show Off on the Flying Trapeze

The Swashbuckling Boyfriends of November

Uncle Tom's Cabin: The Slave as Object of Desire

Are You a Top or a Bottom?

15 Reasons You Should Go to A Bathhouse

Just Shoot Me: Buddy Bonding and Snark

Knowing Your Straight Friends #3: Baseball

Spring 2005: The Boy Who Liked Green Day

Peter MacNicol: Not a Teen Idol

Lucas Black: Gay Subtexts in the South

Turning a Straight Guy Gay in 10 Easy Steps

Alphonse and Gaston: Your Grandfather's Gay Couple

Fall 1975: Dad Takes Me to See Naked Men

Gary Daniels: Man-Mountain with Gay Subtexts

Fall 1968: A Teenager Doing Pushups on TV